


Inauguration

by Zelos



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:31:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1441870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelos/pseuds/Zelos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone has to keep the pieces together, and it sure as hell wasn’t Stark.</p><p>Spoilers for Captain America: the Winter Soldier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inauguration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Imbecamiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imbecamiel/gifts).



> Happy early birthday, Cami!

Her interviewer gave her resume a faintly disapproving once-over before turning to her again. “So, Maria...can you tell me why a Petty Officer from the Navy would be interested in a human resources position here? It is quite a drastic change of pace, not to mention industry.”

Maria thought of Stark Industries: _Everything is achievable through technology_ (they never changed that slogan since Howard Stark’s days). Thought of Jericho missiles and double-dealing to Ten Rings. Thought of Iron Man, and the many suits he’s been through. Thought of a red-and-gold blur with a missile on his back. Thought of the footage she’d seen, dozens of suits exploding into a thousand points of light. Thought of the arc reactor, the power of a sun in the palm of one’s hand.

Maria thought of SHIELD, of promises and oaths, of uncomfortable decisions that made them all sleep a little less soundly at night...and of aliens in the sky, satellites aiming down below, of the many, many lives they had saved.

She had vehemently disagreed with Fury on a great many things, disagreed on what the future held, but there had _been_ a future to argue for—she had thought that every agent, to a one, believed that they were doing the right thing, all in all.

Sitwell had saved her life before—several times. And he’d been instrumental for regaining control of the Helicarrier when Barton had stormed it.

Stark had saved her life too—saved the world, even. _The enemy of my enemy is my friend._

Her interviewer was still staring at her expectantly. Maria said some bullshit about needing a change of pace and being a people person and wanting to do right by them, and wasn’t Stark Industries such an _exciting opportunity_ to make a difference in the world? Look at Tony Stark, at Iron Man, a hero in his own right!

She got hired anyway. Pepper undoubtedly had something to do with it.

 

Steve stopped by to say hello (goodbye), which she didn’t expect. She expected him to run hell-for-leather as fast as his legs (and Wilson’s wings) would carry him, straight into Russia to find Barnes and his own ghosts.

Instead, Steve stopped by her new glass-walled office, looking awkward and underdressed, surrounded by curious stares tipping into awe. Maria rescued him with a Starbucks trip before he could get recognized (or mobbed).

“I thought I’d say hello,” he said by way of explanation, sipping at his coffee (Americano, grande, no sugar).

He was checking up on her. It was almost sweet but Maria didn’t bother pointing it out, instead setting her attention on stirring cream into her coffee. One, two, three turns with her coffee stick, careful counterclockwise turns. Her ankle itched, the holster digging into her leg. She ignored it.

“They’ll be okay,” she said by way of answer, and didn’t miss the way his brow smoothened ever-so-slightly.

“You, too?” He held the door open for her; she nodded in thanks.

She briefly wondered why he was asking about her problems (because her agents were _her_ problems) when he had so many of his own. Then again, it was probably _because_ he had so many of his own that he was trying to avoid thinking about them.

Maria’s mouth twitched. “We’re already dead, many of us. Won’t make that much of a difference.” At his aghast look she added, “I mean officially.” Except it was literally too, because there’d been lots of losses over the last few days. “It’s…easier. Less questions.”

He looked briefly pained; Maria recalled his dossiers and how, for a time, he had nothing but Barnes.

Ironically, they made sure to emphasize to every new recruit that SHIELD _wasn’t_ a death sentence.

“Hard to explain to your folks why a Junior Forensics Analyst would be called for every cat-up-a-tree emergency,” she said. “Or to explain what the hell you were doing the last few years when you finally make one Thanksgiving out of five. Don’t even get me started on the injuries.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, as if it was his to apologize for.

Maria tapped her chest where his white star would rest. “We made our own choices.” Superheroes did not have the monopoly on sacrifice.

Supervillains didn’t have the monopoly on betrayals, either. But that wasn’t Steve’s problem.

Steve was looking at her ankle, noticing the telltale bulge underneath the pressed pantsuit. She arched a brow at him; he offered a small smile in return, brow smoothing again. “Yeah.” An exhalation, more bracing than relief.

“Get going,” she said. “You’ll miss your flight.”

He didn’t ask how she knew his flight. “I have two hours.”

“I meant Wilson.” His eyebrows rose into his hairline, mouth already forming a question. “If he lets you go alone, he’d deserve everything Stark, Romanov, and Barton’d do to him.” Steve inspired this kind of loyalty—according to Romanov, Wilson had spoken to Cap for a grand total of fifteen minutes combined before he threw himself in with this lot.

This time Steve did laugh.

 

Stark threw an absolute shit-fit when he learned what the hell happened to SHIELD (although he was slightly mollified about how no one paid him any attention when he brought Aldrich Killian down around his own ears).

Maria half-expected him to start his own intelligence agency in SHIELD’s wake; it’d be a very _Stark_ thing to do (for both generations of Stark). She’d need to be careful in case he decided to try to mine some of that HYDRA data himself—perhaps not for his own _gains_ , but because he trusted no one else.

She could understand that—she’d be tempted to ask him for help if she knew she could trust him. But she didn’t. She’d trusted Sitwell, once. Sitwell had done a lot of good (for their brand of “good”, anyway), once.

“So, what now?” Stark demanded hotly. “Rogers is off chasing an assassin a few continents away, Fury is six feet under, Romanov is off finding herself, SHIELD’s been dirty from the start and the cleanup isn’t even done.” He barked a sharp laugh. “My old man must be rolling in his grave.” An ugly shadow flickered across his face at the mention of his father, suspicion warring with pain. She could almost see the thought forming in his head: _Was that why...?_

Pepper squeezed his hand. He squeezed back, then added flatly, “did Rogers tell Peggy? About the clusterfuck you made?”

The clusterfuck was long before her time, but Maria shook her head anyway, accepting the blame. “Not that I know of.”

“Good. At least he has that much sense.”

“Maria,” Pepper’s voice was quiet but very, very hard. “So, what now?”

Stay safe, lie low. Keep in contact with Thor, keep an eye on Banner. Nothing they were supposed to do.

Maria didn’t answer.

“Is there something you wish to add, Ms. Hill?” JARVIS asked.

Maria thought of Barnes, thought of Fury. She shook her head. “No.”

 

She made it onto Steve’s shortlist of people to call. She wasn’t surprised by that (oddly touched, maybe). It wasn’t like Fury has a line to call.

“Everyone okay?” he asked.

“Larger than life. Especially Stark.” And as much of a gigantic pain in the ass Stark was—doubly so, since technically he was her _boss_ now—he was _alive_ to be a pain in her ass, so she’d count that among her victories. Because god knew that Tony Stark and Bruce Banner were at the top of HYDRA’s strike list; Stark, especially, was the very definition of impossible, not to mention the heir of a SHIELD founder and a very-public Avenger (were there Avengers anymore? Did it matter?) besides. “Most of us got new jobs. We’re good at regrouping.”

“I don’t envy your job.”

“Most days I don’t either.” But better hers than his. She couldn’t imagine how it’d feel to chase your best friend across the world to find nothing but ghosts.

She wouldn’t know, because Sitwell and the STRIKE team were ghosts now (or just bad memories). Some part of her still hoped that there was more to the story—that perhaps they’d been triple agents or some such (because god knew she’d sent plenty of her own agents with stranger covers), but more and more she realized it didn’t actually _matter_.

“Wilson doing all right?”

“Yes ma’am. Oh, Sam says hi,” and the address was more for Wilson’s benefit and not hers. In the background came Wilson’s voice, tinny and cheerful, _“Keeping him in one piece is a full-time job!”_

She should probably say something encouraging. Instead, what came out was, “Don’t trust anyone.”

She could hear Steve smile. “Too late.”

 

Banner, on sabbatical in India when Stark’s and Rogers’ respective messes went down, sent her a very short message (JARVIS kindly redirected it to her current email address): _What’s going on? Are you okay?_

“Do you want to respond, Maria?” Pepper asked her. She had been cc’d.

Maria considered. On the one hand, she really doubted HYDRA could hurt Banner, strike list be damned. On the other hand, no point taking that risk, or risk having those around him as collateral. At least here the collaterals were (more) informed.

_We’re okay. Come home when you can. Stay safe._

 

Barton’s message to her was much more profane: “What the _fuck_ , Hill?”

She held her phone away from her ear. “Romanov’s briefed you?” How much did she tell?

“ _Yeah_ ,” Clint snapped, in the way that meant _I know everything_ and _uncompromised_ (otherwise, Maria rationalized, Natasha would’ve killed him first). He paused, huffing a sharp breath. “How many?”

“One-third,” and she did not let her voice shake. So damn many. “Most are still at large. 3% losses for us, 7% for them.”

“Coulson?”

“Clear, as far as I know.”

“Now what?”

They may have been cancerous from the start, but now they had to stop the spread. Then, after that, surgically remove the tumours.

She sent Clint a list. Fury has a head start on them; they needed to catch up.

Clint snorted. “We get paid?”

“Pro bono,” she replied. Natasha could find herself along the way.

 

She didn’t tell Tony (whom she’d cleared off her suspect list after a long and very illuminating chat with JARVIS, with threats issued from both sides). If JARVIS had told Tony he never said anything.

“We are not your enemy,” JARVIS had said.

“Neither was Sitwell,” she shot back, and the silence was almost understanding. Perhaps, being artificial, JARVIS better understood ruthlessness.

She didn’t tell Steve or Pepper or Bruce, either. Let them have their idealism and better ways. The world needed both types. Fury was right about one thing: Natasha (and Clint) were comfortable with everything. The others manifestly were not.

“How are things?” Steve would ask when he called, and she would say, “fine.”

“Met up with an old friend,” Clint would say, and she’d tick another name off her list.

In the meanwhile, she edited a lot of resumes for her ex-colleagues.

 

Steve would probably say the SHIELD-HYDRA agents should stand trial now that life and liberty weren’t hanging on a timer. Bruce and Tony would probably agree.

Maria wasn’t sorry. There were assassination attempts on Tony Stark every month (Hulk got a little more exercise). An ounce of prevention vs. a pound of cure, and all that.

The line between preemptive caution and preemptive murder was very thin. Fury’d walked the line for the most part, but—at the end—had came so very close to stepping over.

She wondered when (not if) she’d cross the line, and who would be there to stop her.

 

Fury would tell the rest in his own time. Romanov was off discovering herself; Rogers was chasing his ghosts. Someone has to keep the pieces together, and it sure as hell wasn’t Stark.

She wasn’t Fury, not yet. But she was learning to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Maria in SI couldn't be a coincidence. Keeping an eye on things, protecting Pepper (and Tony)? Sounds more like her speed. :) Besides which, everyone except for Maria (Fury, Natasha, Steve, Sam) left at the end...as if expecting "someone else" to do the cleanup.


End file.
